


spectrum

by m00nie



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2019-11-08 22:39:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17989844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m00nie/pseuds/m00nie
Summary: Usually, it was Splinter or Raph who threw out the “something is wrong with Leo” signal.Sometimes though, it was Donnie.----Or, the fic I would inevitably write about how I think Leo is autistic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first time posting! Please tell me if I formatted wrong! But yeah, I've had this headcanon for ages, so I thought I'd put my mind to rest and start writing about it. Specifically, about Donnie figuring it out.

Usually, it was Splinter or Raph who threw out the “something is wrong with Leo” signal.

 

Sometimes though, it was Donnie.

 

Leonardo was always moving, just in subtler ways. Subtler than Mikey, who when needed to blow off energy, would just hop on whatever toy Don had made for him that week or start annoying someone—  most likely Raph. Honestly, Mike probably had ADHD or something, but Don never said anything. For one, he wasn't a psychologist— nor did he want to be, and secondly, what could they do? It's not like you could get some Ritalin or Adderall when you live in the sewers or any medical treatment in general. ~~Unless if dissection was counted. Dissection was always an open offer.~~ Better yet to pretend nothing was wrong than have a diagnosis which you could do nothing about, or even go to a real professional to see if it was even correct. Besides, it would probably get blown out of proportion by his family.

 

Anyway. Leo was “seemingly run on a motor” (thank you, DSM) just as much as Michelangelo, only he hid it better. For one, he spent an ungodly amount of time training. Weapons practice, katas, sense sharpening… you name it, Leonardo had already put hours of time into it. Even when Splinter called off his training for the day, Leo would still be active, usually deciding it was a perfect time to go on patrol, or practicing alone. Sure, he relaxed— it was just his relaxing included moving most of the time. Meditation being the exception, of course.

 

So the fact Leo was pacing around the lair wasn't exactly unheard of, if but a little annoying. The distant look in his eyes wasn't unheard of either, because sometimes he just “got into the zone”. It was totally a typical Leonardo thing to just have his eyes glaze over in concentration on something in his head. Completely and utterly normal. It helped with meditation after all, so why would Don look into the fact Leo was content with zoning out for hours on end, daily? Nothing to be concerned about.

 

What _was_ concerning — well, moreso very distracting — was that Leo was muttering to himself. Again. And had started rhythmically tapping on his plastron. _Again._ Despite the fact Don had specifically asked him to stop no longer than a half hour ago.

 

“Hey, Leo,”

 

No response.

 

“Leo!”

 

Again, nothing.

 

At this time, Michelangelo got involved — by lobbing a pillow straight at Leo’s head. To everyone’s surprise, it _almost_ hit him.

 

“What?” Leo blinked, looking a bit lost.

 

“You alright?”

 

“Yeah, dude! You were like, in another dimension,” very constructive Mikey. Thank you for your help.

 

“Mm, yeah, just meditating,” Leo still looked lost — floaty, somehow. Head in the clouds. Like he was Don.

 

“Shouldn’t you be sitting to meditate?”

 

“No, you can meditate while walking. It’s called kinhin.”

 

“You want to talk about it?” Donatello offered.

 

“I’m okay,” was all Leo replied before heading off to his room. Pacing again, by the sound of faint tapping.

 

Don put his head on his desk and sighed. Time to put another project on hold.


	2. Chapter 2

Stereotypic, or repetitive behavior. Aka self-stimulatory behavior. Stimming, for short. Seen in ADHD, anxiety, OCD, Tourette's, autism, and other neurological disorders. Stimming, a behavior there to help self regulate, is seen in people without these disorders, just on a lesser scale. For example, Raph twirls his sai. Don jiggles his leg. Leo paces for hours without stop, which is, to put bluntly, not normal. And when he’s not and is acting like his usual self, he goes for activities that engage the proprioceptive or vestibular senses. Stimming. Another word to describe Mikey and Leo, another word to memorize to make up for the fact Don could do just about  _ nothing _ to help.

 

It wasn't ADHD, Don could happily wipe that off the table. Sure, Leo had a high need for activity, but his concentration? Impeccable. Which kind of blew the attention deficit thing away. They all had some form of anxiety, because being nearly killed on a daily basis does that to you. OCD and Tourette's were also quickly brought off the table. The next closest was autism which… after considering it, made sense, in some parts. 

 

For one, obsession. Leonardo was  _ obsessed _ with ninjutsu, and the code of bushido, and it went far beyond the need for stimulation or safety. It was something he kept close to his heart, well, they all did, but… none of them had read  _ Bushido: The Soul of Japan  _ several times over, or sought out lessons on Japanese culture. 

 

Connected to said obsession, it seemed almost ironic that “black and white thinking” was even a symptom. Going through some notable examples, Donnie realized a good chunk of Leo’s choices could be attributed to that. They needed to clean up the gang violence in the city because they “defeated” Shredder, no matter if it was outside of their realm of control. Karai was good, because she believed in honor, despite that she was loyal to the Shredder. Eventually, because of her honor, she would leave. She had to. Theory of mind? Who was that? Moral high ground and self-blame were a given, all thanks to “black and white thinking”. Shades of grey rarely existed, which, honestly? Probably helped out in the long run, considering Donatello still caught himself debating ethics in the middle of fights every so often. As much as Leo’s bullheaded adherence to his values annoyed people,  ~~ mainly Raph ~~ ~~,~~ it did make him good at leading. 

 

Another thing that made sense: sensory sensitivity. For as long as Don could remember, Leo’s always had the sharpest hearing. It didn't matter how quiet you were, he would always find you. The fact this could be explained by a lack of a sensory filter made it all seem kind of unfair, in a way. Of  _ course _ he always won hide and seek, he never had to stop and try to hear for breathing, because his brain never discarded it in the first place. Cheater. 

 

Now there laid the elephant in the room: defects in the social sphere of life. Granted, living in the sewers for their entire lives left some much-needed room for improvement for all of their social skills, autism or not. Sure, he wasn't the most talkative, but he never had been mute. According to Splinter, Leo had actually been the first to talk! And  _ maybe _ he could come off as cold, but that was just part of his charm. Donatello  _ firmly _ believed that Leo was just as connected to everyone else as they were —  he had to be. He made eye contact, sometimes even a bit too much, he had a friend, he didn't stutter, nothing. Unbreaking eye contact, coming off as aloof to others and being less talkative than his brothers  _ couldn’t _ mean he had some social issue. 

 

Could it?

 

What would that even  _ mean _ ?

 

….

 

So. Autism. One of his brothers is  _ possibly  _ autistic, and the other  _ possibly _ has ADHD. Just more information for the growing vault of secrecy Don had begun. Brilliant. He needed a vacation. 

 

~~ He needed a  _ doctorate. _ ~~


	3. Chapter 3

Alright. This would be fine. Leo was still the same brother Don always had, the only difference was that there was the  _ possibility _ of a word to describe his behaviors. No big deal. In the long run, it would probably be as helpful as the shoddy diagnosis he’d mentally given Mikey. The diagnosis meant it was easier to find articles, papers, and forums about a group of symptoms. It led him to ideas for redirections, distractions, and trying to make Mikey think about what actually happens if he causes trouble out of boredom. Simple things.  ~~ Like spiking his drinks with caffeine on particularly bad days. ~~ All very simple, all very subtle, all very workable adjustments that made life easier for everyone. All adjustments that could be done without having to disclose said shoddy diagnosis, too. 

 

In his research, the most recurring way of helping autistics was acceptance. Which felt… kind of redundant, in a way.  _ Of course, they _ ’d all accept Leo, what else could they do? He was their  _ brother _ . Did humans just… not adapt to different people? Again, another redundancy. Of course, they didn’t. Why else did they live in the sewers? Don was getting off track.  ~~ And losing more sleep. ~~ He needed easy, workable solutions. Small changes nobody would notice. 

 

Donnie decided changing out the fluorescents with LEDs would be a good first step. To his surprise, it actually did help, and he saw a decrease in the number of headaches Leo had. The same happened when he worked on making the “electrical hum” of the lair quieter. Splinter also appreciated these changes, thanks to the fact he just heard better than them. Now, it made a lot more sense why Leo preferred having candles and paper lanterns in his room over lamps. 

 

Next came the idea of a rope swing in the lair, one that you could jump off of into the pool. It was actually an idea Don got from his childish side, spurred on by pictures of occupational therapies, and it was pretty genius. And fun. Very fun. It might have been more selfish to add it in that he’d like to admit.

 

Honestly, other than a few minor adjustments, the life they lead was actually pretty geared towards autism. A stable routine, socialization limited to a few close people, 1:1 guidance with Splinter…. No wonder it took Donnie so long to notice. 

 

Don rubbed his eyes, trying to rid them or whatever tiredness had settled there. He was an  _ engineer _ , not a  _ psychologist _ . That’s why it had taken him so long. Even though the brain was one hell of a machine, it wasn't his type of project. He took a questionable looking cup of coffee and threw back all of its contents in one sip. 

 

It was paint water. 

 

Maybe it was time for bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don, please get a working sleep schedule that doesn't change whenever you have a new fixation. Also, tell someone about your “shoddy diagnoses” before I strangle you. Love, author. I’ll try posting once a week, let’s hope school doesn’t dominate my time. Oh! This takes place between season 4 and 5! And I'm not afraid to stretch it out because these boys need a break.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mikey POV chapter! Yay!

It was a pretty good day so far, actually. Sensei didn’t notice I fell asleep in meditation, we didn’t die, and now we were about to go chill at April’s on celebrating the whole living deal! Awesome, right?   
  
Totally awesome. Completely awesome. Something... no, some _ one _ was off, though.   
  
Don was good, smiling, running over traffic cones, not horribly mutated. All in all fantastic. Raph was great too, betting Casey he could crush more cans than him, and that he was the manliness or something important. Important enough to ignore Don’s driving! But yeah, Leo. Not Gucci. Actually, he had been staring off into space for the last several minutes, which wasn’t until he Normal And Accepted Leonardo Behavior™ book, edition 5. Nor was it in any of the other editions, soooooo   
  
“Hey,” I poked, “are you alive? Can I have your food?”   
  
Took him a whole five seconds to hear anything, then he just said “great!” and gave a thumbs up.   
  
So, obviously, there was a ninety percent chance Leo was lying. But like, we nearly died today, so, yknow. Mental fog can slide, for a bit. He’d say something if something was wrong, right? Right? Well, no, but it was fine! We’d make Leo talk if we needed to.   
  
Anyway! Don ran over a bike! The battle shell crunched it up and I said garbage cans were extra points. Raph made us pull over when Don started swerving to hit them. Killjoy.   
  
April was super excited to see us and hugged us all, which was epic. Might be because we actually thought we were gonna die but like, we can’t die, I’m like 17. Who would kill a teenager? So it was fine, overall. Anyway, Raph and Casey ditched to do dumb stuff on the roof, leaving me and Donnie to set the table.   
  
“Aprillll,” I whined. “We shouldn’t be setting these. We almost  _ died _ today!”   
  
“Yeah, and that's just a regular Tuesday for us, Mikey,” Don snarked, as Don does. Good to have you back, Don.   
  
“Don’s right. Earn your keep, Michelangelo,” April smiled.   
  
I groaned and went back to sadly setting the table. Why was there so much stuff? Couldn’t we just ditch the spoons and knives and just eat with a fork? It was only going to be Italian food, anyway.   
  
“Hey, Leo,” April sat down next to him and touched his shoulder, “you ok? Whatcha thinking about?”   
  
Oh? That’s No Bueno. There’s a fine line between Leo actually needing to be pulled out of his thoughts, and Leo needing time to zone the hell out, and right now April was crossing it. Don didn’t seem to notice.   
  
“Hey! April! When’s the food going to be here?”   
  
“Mikey, not now,” she touched his shoulder and yeah, the alarms in my head were blaring.   
  
You see, every once in a while Leo just needs to zone the fuck out. Not like, meditation way, even though it looks like it, more so he just like freezes in place for a while. Usually passes if you just left him alone and like, didn’t make a shit ton of noise around him. So yeah, he usually just got himself out of it, unless you pushed him in which it would get worse, to what I call Level Two. Which is where we were heading towards. Level two sucks, because it left open the possibility for Level Three, which basically never happened. Last time we got to level three we were like eight and it was the Fourth of July. But yeah, level two sucks because it can lead to level three, and level three is just hard to watch.   
  
Speaking of which, Leo entered level two — curling into a tight tight ball to block out the world. I turned off the lights cuz like, when Leo’s in this state I don’t think he can really handle the same amount of stuff we can, yknow? At least he always seemed to be thrown into level three when the world was just Too Much in level two.   
  
Don finally caught on, “April, he’s fine, just let him decompress.”   
  
“Donnie, I don’t think this is normal...”   
  
“It’s not it’s just,” Don rubbed his hands over his face, “I’ll explain later, ok?”   
  
“Explain what?” There had never been an explanation for this before. It was just normal, like how Raph got angry or I got annoying or Don would ignore everything when he started a new project. No explanation, it was just  _ us _ . Leo just got overwhelmed sometimes, right? That was normal.   
  
CRASH! “Hey, why the hell are the lights off?!” Ruh-roh. Casey and Raph were back.   
  
Lights turned on. Leo holding his head tighter and tighter, fingers digging into the skin. He was shaking a bit. If everything didn’t stop Right Now it would be Too Much, and we’d be facing the first level three in years.   
  
Casey didn’t catch on. Raph did, but Casey didn’t. He kept asking questions, and April was still touching Leo’s shoulder, Don kept saying he’d explain later, and Raph was trying to get Casey to leave again. I turned off the lights.   
  
“Why do you keep turning off the lights?!?!”   
  
Level three: scream sobbing — entered.   
  
“That’s why!” I threw up my hands, they're all so fucking dumb sometimes, “can you all just leave for a while? Someone call Master Splinter and just let me calm Leo down!”   
  
Everyone stared at me in the dark, before all shuffling up to leave.

 

Finally. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my friend Gael for being the Mikey consultant on this chapter! I kept dying because I didn't know how to write him and they helped a lot!!!! Three cheers for Gael! Anyway, yeah, that happened. Honestly, Don would be too comfortable with just keeping everything a secret, so I had to make it so that he couldn't. But yeah, Leo went thro a shutdown/meltdown, which is common in autistics. Basically like, there's too much stress and sensory info and it keeps building to a point where you just break. Which is why it's better to deal with stress as it happens instead of letting it pile up! 
> 
> On another note know I said I was going to try to post once a week but I just. Needed to get this chapter out. There's a lot going on and I'm going to continue eventually, just not for a bit.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhhh sorry for disappearing. Back now! I hope! Let’s boogie :3

Okay. OKAY! So! Leo was scream sobbing, my head was going nuts, and I had no clue where Sensei was!

 

_ Fun!  _

 

Leo was still screaming, I have to be serious, stop fucking around Michelangelo— whatever attempt at an internal pep talk was cut off by crying.  _ Right.  _ Focus. I said I’d calm him down, I was going to calm him down. 

 

“Hey— uh. I know a lot’s been happening and all... I’m glad you aren’t hitting yourself or anything..?”

 

Leo held his head tighter, screamed louder, curled up harder. Right. Noise was a no go. 

 

What would dad do? What would dad do? What  _ did _ dad do when this happened before?

 

Leo would be screaming, or crying, or both, probably in some dark corner, sometimes hitting his head cuz I guess pain makes shit less loud? I never asked. He’d hug Leo ‘n whatever when it got that bad, usually though he just made the rest of us go to our beds for a bit and got Leo a blanket and his bear. Mr.Soft was probably under a shit ton of rubble now though,  _ sooo _ I guess it’s blanket time!

 

April wouldn’t mind a borrowed comforter, right? 

 

————

 

Dad eventually came. After about twenty-three minutes, but I wasn’t counting. I didn’t cry. 

 

~~ I might have cried  _ a little _ . ~~

 

Dad stroked Leo’s head, he patted his shoulder. He touched foreheads with him and put his hand over Leo’s. 

 

Leo quieted down, eventually. For a bit, he was doing that kinda sobbing thing where you keep sucking in breath and coughing and hiccuping and sometimes vomit (he did not) cuz you just fuck up the whole breathing deal. Now it was just heavy panting, and every so often he would suck in a breath and shutter a bit. 

 

I don’t think I’ve ever seen him cry as a teen. 

 

“Michelangelo,” dad whispered, “if this happens again... just- make sure your brother knows you’re there for him. I do not think he can control these once they start. I know that he doesn’t want to be alone, though. He told me once.” 

 

“Okay.”

 

“Thank you, my son.”

 

—————

 

Leo can't really talk or move after a level three, so Don got to carry him out. Leo’s gonna hate this. He's going to hate himself. Fuck. 

 

“Thank you, April, for letting us borrow your blanket,” dad said.

 

“Oh, don't worry about it,” she started.

 

I know she’s probably just concerned but something felt. Wrong. As she spoke, as she looked at Leo. I know sometimes April and Casey feel sorry for us, they aren't very good at hiding it. I don't like the whole pity thing, none of us do, it feels degrading. Kinda like being slapped across the face, watching April feel all sorry for Leo, for us. I know it’s stupid,  _ I know _ she sees us as more than just animals, I know, I know,  **_I know_ ** . I've called her mom enough times on accident where I should just be okay with this. With the whole, emotional thing she gives us. But I see her looking at him, and I wanna scream. 

 

“Tell Leo to feel better, ok?” He can hear you. He can fucking hear you. He's right there, he can hear you. 

 

I count to ten. Whatever.

 

—————

 

It was a silent ride, y’know, nothing at all like how it was earlier. Raph drove, which was nice, he’s actually a really good driver. Kind of like a little old lady at times, though. Well, maybe it’s just because me and Don kind of hate the rules of the road. 

 

…It was really silent. 

 

Kind of hated it, honestly. Kind of hated this all. 

 

Back home was silent too. Usually, Splinter would have taken Leo to his room by now, let all the hurt be fixed in private. But y'know. Kind of late for that. 

 

Quietness wasn't that eerie. Just kind of accepted. I don't like the silence, it feels wrong. Raph’s suppose to be hitting his punching bag, or watching tv, or being annoyed with me, or the world, or Leo. Don’s suppose to be building or something, not sitting on the floor next to the couch. And Splinter, well, yeah. He usually is meditating, which he is right now in the living room, giving some sense of normal.

 

Leo’s suppose to be training. Or meditating. Coming up with a plan for whatever danger comes at us. Or being an actual teen and messing around with his dinky scooter. But no. On the couch, wrapped in a blanket, with his gear and mask off. Only his eyes showed, and they were staring blankly into the distance. 

 

Raph was knitting, or whatever its called, because he was going into his final form of being a little old lady. 

 

It wasn't even fun, making fun of Raph, I was just tired.

 

I guess we all were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DO NOT take this as actual advice at what to do— make a plan beforehand! Research! Anyway! That happened! Why am I writing this?! AAAAAAAAAAAAA
> 
> GOOD TO BE BACK!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don POV. One day I’ll tell an entire story without switching POV. That is not today.

Well. He fucked up. 

 

Raph left the shop to call dad. Mikey had stayed upstairs to help Leo. April shifted nervously, Casey had his arm around her. Both occasionally looked upward. Don kept avoiding making eye contact, so it couldn't start a conversation about what was happening. 

 

Leo was still screaming. 

 

Of course, he had read about this.  ~~ And watched it happen, years ago. They all thought Leo outgrew these. ~~ Meltdowns: the point at which an autistic person becomes too overwhelmed with the situation, and their body takes over. The definition didn't fit in everything that one could actually hold, or be caused by, but it worked. Leo, the brother who hated himself whenever he couldn't exercise  _ perfect _ self-control, was facing an utter loss of, well,  _ any  _ that he once held. 

 

Don should of helped prevent this since prevention is the best “fix” for meltdowns— at least that's what he read. He could of noticed Leo was “shutting down” (another term for another experience, which didn't matter. They were already past that), he could of told April to let Leo decompress sooner,  _ he could have told literally anyone about the shoddy diagnoses he labeled his brothers with _ . But he didn't, and now April was looking at him for an explanation. 

 

He fucked up. 

 

“Sooooo,” Casey broke the silence, “is Leo okay?”

 

Here goes nothing.

 

“Um, yeah. He just, well, this used to happen when we were kids? Leo would sometimes get so overwhelmed he didn't know what to do, so he’d just get stuck, then start taking it out on himself,” shit, too much info? “He hasn't done it in a really long time though, Master Splinter taught him how to calm down before he gets to that point. It was just a really hectic day, and we should have just went home instead of putting more on him.” 

 

April’s face drained, “Don, I am  _ so _ sorry, if I had-”

 

More screams. We all cringed. Raph joined us right in the middle of Leo’s sob. 

 

“Jesus,” he muttered, and said, “dad’s on his way. Said he’d be here in fifteen minutes, tops.” 

 

Silence. I could hear Leo coughing from crying so hard. 

 

“Should we go check on them?”

 

_ Yes, _ he wanted to say,  _ yes, we should see if Mikey's okay, we should try helping him,  _ but that might just make it worse. Don had to make it right, this time. “I don’t think so— sensei always made us leave Leo alone during these. Getting more people involved might just make it worse.”

 

So they didn't. They didn’t do anything. They didn’t say anything. They waited for the storm to pass. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes that’s all you can do.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leo POV, because it feels most necessary to have a break from Mikey n Don and see how he feels. Swear we’ll get back to Don and Mikey's pov eventually, and eventually go into Raph’s. Raph is just a bastard to write, is all. 
> 
> And yeah, uh, dumped these all on y’all tonight because inspo has been hard to come by so I wanted to take advantage of it.

It always came down to this. Dragging down the family.

 

Don and Mikey didn't break. They were the major pillars us four, stable. They didn't crack like me and Raph. Even Raph was better at fixing himself— he’d mess up, then get better. 

 

But I am stubborn, and even when I finally think I've put all of my pieces back together, it comes crumbling down again. 

 

I’m like a broken record. Nothing ever changes. 

 

Sighing, I got up from my meditative pose. If I was going to hate myself, I could at least be productive. 

 

I  _ know _ I'm supposed to forgive myself. I know it, I've had it drilled into me… well, since we started going to the surface regularly. And the intensity of the lesson only increased as time went on, especially these past few months. 

 

This was different though. _It was all my fault._ I _could have_ controlled the situation. I could have ignored everything, continue the breathing techniques sensei taught me. Could have been normal, help set up for dinner, joke around with my family. But I didn't. I broke down. Again. _Over nothing_. **_In front of everyone._** My brothers hadn't seen me do _that_ in ages. They had seen those crying gags as a thing of the past, no more eggshells to walk on. Now they had watched it happen in public. April and Casey saw too. Would they get an explanation from someone else, or would they make up their own? How more unhuman had I become?

 

I needed to move. All these emotions felt like they were eating away at my skin. And at the very least, if I couldn't hold up to my brothers mentally, I could keep up physically. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's… a lot of self-hatred with being undiagnosed. At least there was for me. You see everyone around you being happy and making friends and doing things you can’t do. Its a really toxic place to be in. And this is Leo after all, self-hatred and blame is his bread and butter, my dudes.
> 
> And yes, Leo is being irrational here. There is NO shame in having a meltdown or shutdown, NO shame in being autistic. We just process differently. We don't deserve stigma or abuse for how our brains and bodies work.

**Author's Note:**

> Most people already think Mikey has ADHD, so I decided to add it in. This fic is very self indulgent if you already haven't guessed it.


End file.
